


Fingers and Skirts (the Way You Smile)

by wyvern



Series: Summer Pornathon 2014 - Main challenges [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent, Power Imbalance, sexual extortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvern/pseuds/wyvern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana has always felt a bit different. But when she meets Gwen - a dirty, poor girl - things are falling into place, somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingers and Skirts (the Way You Smile)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summer Pornathon's Challenge Five: Snatch.
> 
> All the characters of Merlin belongs to Shine, BBC, history and whatever else. It's not me.
> 
> This fic has been beta'd by the lovely Jess, though all remaining mistakes are my own. It's probably also hysterically historically incorrect, but... just read it for what it is: A point for Team Sloth.

***

Someone bumps against her in the crowd, and Morgana feels someone’s quick hand in her pocket. The market is crowded, and nobility and commoners alike are rubbing shoulders as they try to find holiday treats in one of the rickety stalls. She twists around and manages to catch the wrist of the person trying to steal her coin purse. Beautiful brown eyes meet hers, and Morgana doesn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t a girl who’s still pretty, despite being covered in a layer of soot and dirt.

Not letting go, she retrieves the purse and puts it back in her pocket.

“Please, m’lady,” the girl says, “I just need to feed my little ones.”

Looking at her again, the girl looks older than Morgana thought at first glance, probably slightly younger than her own 25 years. She’s thin and dirty, but looks healthy otherwise.

“Please, m’lady...”

The girl – woman – makes a bid to get away, but Morgana keeps her wrist in a strong grip. She’s always been stubborn, and this isn’t an exception.

“Do you even have children?” she asks, and watches the woman flinch before straightening up and meeting her eyes again, this time searching.

The answer comes out more aggressive than it was probably intended.

“No, they’re all horrible little brats! But I need to eat, too.”

Morgana knows her offer isn’t that of a good Christian, but her mouth acts before she can stop herself.

“I live in the big brownstone by the square. Be there at seven tonight, and I’ll give you some money for food. Or...”

She closes her eyes and licks her dry lips before continuing. She’ll go to hell for what she’s thinking.

“Or I’ll fetch the police.”

The girl’s eyes widen, but she nods. When Morgana lets go of her wrist, she doesn’t linger. The crowd swallows her up, and Morgana is left feeling uneasy, and full of unclean thoughts.

***

The girl is actually right on time. When Morgana’s maid shows her into the sitting room, she looks around curiously, taking in the high ceiling, ornate windows, thick curtains, and the warm fire crackling in the stone fireplace. She seems to have cleaned up a bit – the dirt and soot are not as prevalent as in the marketplace – but she’s still wearing the same tattered dress.

Morgana dismisses the maid, who curtsies and closes the door behind her on the way out.

“Sit,” Morgana says to the girl, fighting to keep her voice calm. “What’s your name? I’m Morgana, daughter of Lord Uther.”

“Gwen,” the girl says. “Daughter of Tom, the lower town blacksmith.”

“Yet you have to steal to survive?”

“He died a year ago. It’s not easy, getting by on your own, m’lady.”

Morgana nods thoughtfully, and comes to a decision. “I apologise for asking you to come. You shall have the money I promised, of course...”

But she doesn’t get further than that, as the girl rises and with two quick steps is right before her grabbing her neck. There’s a dry, chapped pair of lips on Morgana’s, but the kiss is warm and the tongue finding its way into her mouth is slick. It’s like her mind has wanted nothing more, because Morgana is unable to resist it.

She fumbles with the girl’s skirt, gets lost in the underskirt, but eventually reaches the smooth skin of a thigh. It feels like her fingers are made of embers, the way they burn.

“I want it,” Gwen sighs. She finds Morgana’s hand under the skirts and guides it to between her legs.

Initially, Morgana resists, but when she feels the first wetness, her curiosity takes over and she explores Gwen with her fingers. Rubbing, stroking, even pinching a bit. Gwen moans and leans into the hand, grasping Morgana’s shoulder to stay upright, occasionally bending down to place wet kisses on her face and neck.

It’s like opening a book and suddenly finding out you can read. Morgana’s always been uninterested in the men her father has paraded before her, but this... This is different.

When there’s a hard knock on the door the two women fly apart. Gwen quickly rearranges her dress and turns away from Morgana, wiping her mouth.

The door opens and Uther strides in.

“Father...!”

“Morgana, my darling! But... are you ill? You look flushed.”

At a loss for words, Morgana glances at Gwen.

She gets nothing but a small, secret smile in return.

***

THE END

***


End file.
